


House Willoughby One Shots

by an0mally



Category: The Willoughbys (2020)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Coffee Shops, Fluff, Foster families, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kindred Spirits, Multi, One-Shots, Past Child Abuse, Prompt Challenge, Rating May Change, Ruth is oblivious to the Willoughbys’ trauma, Sibling Fluff, Sibling Rivalry, Slightly older Ruth, The Willoughbys love their baby sister, These all take place in the TtLatH canon unless stated otherwise, but you don’t have to read it all to read these!, for now..., tantrums
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:00:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29066973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an0mally/pseuds/an0mally
Summary: Some assorted one-shots based on prompts from my friends on discord!
Relationships: Linda | Nanny and Ruth, The Willoughby Siblings, The Willoughby Siblings and Ruth, Tim Willoughby and Original Character(s), Tim Willoughby and The Waddingtons
Kudos: 13





	1. Coffee

After a full day’s flight, the dandy dirigible made it to it’s last fuel stop of the day. As did the four Willoughbys.

There was a bit of a learning curve to the whole “buying sustenance at an actual store” thing, but the kids surprisingly managed quite quickly, and found it even easier once they learned the little plastic card in Nanny’s purse could be used in place of money. The actual sustenance, however, was another matter.

Chips? Most of those were good. Protein bars? Fine if you wanted actual protein but disgusting in most cases. Sugar free gummy bears? _Never again. Gas station bathrooms will forever live in Tim’s nightmares..._

“Trail mix with almonds or cashews, Jane?” Tim asked. They’d been in the convenience store for a little over fifteen minutes now.

“Whatever, Tim! It’s food…” Jane whined. The Barnabys, meanwhile, were too mesmerized by the hotdog rotisserie to offer any input.

“Both then! Good...idea.” Tim let off a yawn at his last word, and Jane looked at him concerningly.

“You sure you’ll be able to fly all night?”

“Of course!” Tim replied, right before another wave of sleepiness came over him and he yawned again.

“I don’t think you’re in any shape to fly right now!” Jane said. Then, a thought.

“Hey, what if we found something to keep you awake?” 

Tim was alerted once more out of a half-sleep, then looked at Jane quizzically. 

“Suh...what?”

“Y’know, like…” Jane poked around the little store and found her way to the beverage cooler, where her eyes lit up as she picked up a can and held it out to Tim.

“Like this, maybe!”

Tim looked at the splashy graphics on the energy drink, depicting things like skulls and fire and promising energy with _“50 TIMES MORE CAFFEINE!!!”_ This alone was enough for him to recoil and hand it right back.

“No thank you…”

As Jane went off to find something else, Tim considered her point. She had one, he’d never admit. It was infeasible to fly for the amount of time they would without succumbing to sleep. 

He’d heard of something else grown ups drank to wake up, but couldn’t place the name. Something with a C…?

The eldest Willoughby found an answer to his question as he glanced out the window of the store, spotting a glowing sign advertising said beverage. _Coffee! That was it!_

“Hey, what if I got something to help stay awake!” Tim exclaimed, sleep maybe half-louding his thoughts at this point.

“Uh-huh. Cracking idea, Tim...” Jane deadpanned.

—

The coffee shop promised by the sign was the next shop over in the little truck stop complex, and upon entry, the smell alone was almost enough to wake all the kids up. The place was a feast for the senses, with it’s strange new music playing throughout and the diverse patrons waiting to get their own late-night caffiene. Jane and the twins’ attention was instantly grabbed by the pastry case, much to Tim’s annoyance.

“Tim! Can we-“ 

“No.” Tim said. “We’re here for one thing and one thing only!”

“Not even a small one?” “We don’t mind a small one.” said Barnaby B and A, respectively.

“Ooh! Like these!” Jane said, pointing to some frosted orbs on sticks called “cake pops”.

Tim, realizing he wasn’t going to win this battle anytime soon, relented upon seeing his siblings’ puppy dog eyes. “Ugh. _Fine_ …”

Tim finally approached the counter to order, and was met by a lady with purple hair.

“What can I get you, kiddo?”

“One, um…” He looked at the size chart again, seeing not “small” or “large”, but some weird words he couldn’t quite pronounce. 

“One plain, _grandy_ coffee, and three cake pops.”

“Cream and sugar in that?”

Tim glanced back to see that his siblings were out of earshot. “Yes, please.”

“And would you like to upgrade that to Venti for just thirty cents more?”

She held up the cup, and Tim noticed that one was indeed bigger. 

“Yes.”

“Alright! That’ll be $8.50. Can I get a name for that?”

Tim was confused, but asking his name was the least of his questions about this place.

“Tim.”

He handed her the card and the lady then handed him the cake pops, which Tim brought over to his siblings.

“There, happy?”

“Very.” “Also very.” said the twins.

“ _Tom_!”

Tim paid no mind to the name shouted at first, before Jane snickered and turned him around to face the same lady from the register, holding a coffee that was very much for him.

“Tom!” she queried again.

The four Willoughbys went back to the dirigible, Tim with his coffee in hand and the others happily munching on cake pops. Tim looked at the name on his cup and thought, _How_??? 

“Thanks again for the cake pops, _Tom_.” Jane teased.

“Shut up.”


	2. An Accomplice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for this was “a snapshot into one of the kids’ days with their temporary foster homes” and I couldn’t not write Tim meeting Bobby. Enjoy!

Tim didn’t speak for the entire car ride to the Waddingtons’ house. The five or so kids piled into the seat next to him didn’t either, as if sensing something _off_ about their new “brother”.

The single mother of said children, Ms. Stacey Waddington, had no such reservations. 

“Any favorite foods I should make for dinner, Tim?”

No answer. 

“How about a movie night? We’ll let you pick.”

Nothing.

“Whenever you’re ready, kiddo.” The blonde, bespectacled lady smiled at him through the rearview, patient as a saint. Tim felt almost -keyword, _almost_ bad for being so cold to her, but didn’t let that show even a little.

This wasn’t his family.

After being shown to his room -which he’d be sharing with the eldest sibling- Tim faked a stomach ache and proceeded to lie down on the cot under his blanket for hours. He didn’t _deserve_ dinner or dessert or movies (whatever those were) after what he’d done. He wanted Jane and the Barnabys and his old Willoughby life back.

Eventually he got up and curiously surveyed the other half of the room. His quote-en-quote “brother”’s half, with it’s ceiling stars and baseball trophies and pictures of the lanky blond boy with his family, sports teams, and classmates on a cork board above his desk. Robert was his name, apparently.

He seemed happy, which only made Tim hate it here more.

 _”Is he alright?”_ Tim heard a voice from not far outside the door.

_”I don’t know. Mom said give him space, ‘kay Ness? Maybe he’ll talk to me.”_

_”Fine.”_

Tim heard a knock, and frantically dashed back to his cot under the blanket. 

“Hey, uh, Tim? Can I come in?” The deeper and more tween-boy-sounding of the two voices asked. Tim muffled a quiet “Mhm” in spite of much preferring to stay alone. It was his room too, after all. 

The doorknob turned and the lights were flicked on, making Tim shuffle further under the blanket. He then felt the cot’s weight shift at the opposite end, meaning Robert must’ve sat down there.

“Hey,” the boy spoke softly. “Um...Mom told me it’s okay if you’re not ready to talk about it, but also, it might make you feel better? It’s up to you, dude…”

_Why would he want to talk to these people?_

“A new family’s always a big adjustment, I mean, with my sister-“

“You’re _NOT_ my family!” Tim snapped, kicking off the blanket and shuffling to the far end of the cot. 

He saw the shocked expression on the eldest Waddington’s face and then felt a bit shocked at _himself_ for yelling so loud. Tim curled up, sighed, and rested his head on his knees.

They sat like that in silence for a few moments, and Tim was surprised he hadn’t scared him off. He had his mother’s patience, it seemed. Possibly from dealing with this exact scenario many times with his other adopted siblings.

He was a brother. Like Tim was. 

“My family’s gone.” Tim finally spoke. “My sister, my brothers...I don’t know where they took them.”

“Whoa, _wait_.” The other boy said, a surprised shift in his tone opposed to a gentle one like before. “You have siblings? Blood siblings?”

Tim nodded, a bit taken aback by Robert’s sudden concern.

“And they didn’t keep you together…”

“ _Fighting children must be separated,_ they said.”

“They can’t _do_ that! Can they…?”

Tim only shrugged. “Why do you even care?”

“Because! I mean...Mom’s worked with Orphan Services a bunch and like...we had no idea. I’m sorry, Tim.”

Tim sighed. “Thank you, Robert.”

“Bobby. Bobby’s fine…” 

Bobby walked over to a drawer next to his bed and rummaged through it, pulling out two small bags of chips.

“Hungry? I know you skipped dinner, so…”

“You keep food in your _room_?” Tim asked. Bobby smiled and let off a soft chuckle.

“When you’re one of six siblings, it’s every man for themselves.”

Tim had to smile at that as well as he reluctantly took the chips. He _was_ admittedly quite hungry.

“And you’re the oldest?”

“Yup.”

“So was I…” Tim’s expression fell again, as did the tone of his voice at his next words.

“I’m not staying here, you know. I meant it when I said this isn’t my family.”

“Figured that. We heard you kinda had a track record for running away.” Bobby said, smiling empathetically. “If you need help with that, let me know.”

Now this was completely new for Tim. Never in any of his other escapes had he gained an accomplice. Tim cocked an eyebrow at Bobby.

“You’d HELP me run away from your own mother?”

“I’d even give you snacks for the road!” Bobby said, gesturing to his stash drawer.

Both boys shared a laugh at that, and Tim felt the closest thing to a positive emotion he’d experienced for his entire ordeal.

“You’re a decent fellow, Bobby Waddington.”


	3. Little Ruthie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This prompt was “any Willoughby sibling and Ruth” so...i did all of them, whoops 👉👈

Ruth Melanoff knew a lot of things. 

She knew she was adopted, and didn’t mind it. She knew her siblings were also adopted, and didn’t mind that either. Ruth loved them, but they could be odd…

Tim read to her before bed sometimes. She loved when he did funny voices as the characters. Yet there was this one time when something strange happened. One night, he’d started reading _Cinderella_ from her fairy tale treasury book.

_”When she had done her work, she used to go to the chimney corner, and sit down there in the...the cinders and ashes, w-which caused her to be called Cinderwench….”_

He trembled like he’d been frightened (which was ...often, but never while reading) and closed the book.

“...Ruthie, could we pick another story?”

“Why?”

“Um…”

“We were reading _this_ story. I want _this_ story!” The five-year-old pouted while she waited for a satisfactory answer from her big brother, but none came, only…

“Because.”

“Because _why?!_ ”

 _“Because I said so!”_ Tim snapped, and immediately regretted yelling in front of little Ruth when she shrank back under her covers. The eldest Willoughby thought for a moment, then spoke.

“Okay, okay, do you wanna know a secret?”

This got the young child’s attention, her eyes widened with anticipation.

“...I’m _very_ scared of giant pumpkins.”

“Really?!” Ruth was giggling now at the ridiculous statement.

“Yeah, I mean, can you imagine if you got a pumpkin carriage, but there were **worms** in it? _Giant_ worms?!” He made a bug crawling motion with his hand along Ruth’s arm as he said this, causing even more giggles.

“Ew!”

“I know!”

This seemed to satisfy the girl for now, as she spoke again when her laughter died down.

“Let’s read _Hansel and Gretel_ instead.”

“You got it, Peanut.” Tim said, and the two settled back into a comfy reading position, saving a potentially difficult conversation for another day.

—

Jane was the most fun. 

She played music and games with Ruth and knew how to do pretty braids in her hair (Well, before a certain taffy-related incident gave her an impromptu pixie cut, but Ruth didn’t mind it). Jane loved messing with their brothers and trading secrets. Sisters had something special like that.

But there was one time when Ruth did the impossible; she made Jane _mad_.

Ruth just wanted to have a sleepover with Mary Beth, but her mom said they couldn’t do that on a school night.

“But we go to the same school!”

“I said _no_ , Ruthie.” 

“We can just take the bus together!”

“No.”

Jane was doing her homework on the nearby living room couch, and heard loud and clear when her sister stomped her foot and said…

“ **I hate you!** I’m running away!”

Not even five seconds later, the middle Willoughby was instantly by her mother’s side, red-faced and angry in a way Ruth had never seen as she knelt down to her level.

“ _What_ did you say to Mom?!”

Startled, Ruth could only stammer. “I...I…”

“ **Don’t EVER say that!** Are you listening?! Never!” 

“Jane, _Jane_ , calm down.” Linda said. She appeared to be not nearly as upset as the teen was, despite her youngest daughter saying such things to her.

Realizing how frightened little Ruth was at her outburst, Jane’s expression softened as she collected herself, looked to her mom for approval, and spoke again.

“Listen Ruthie, it’s no fun to run away. It’s no fun to have no family. Mommy loves you, okay? You’re _so_ lucky mommy loves you…”

Jane looked like she was crying now, and Ruth didn’t quite understand why, but she too started tearing up nonetheless as she hugged her sister.

“I’m sorry! Jane, do you hate me?”

“Of course I don’t! I could never…” Jane let go of Ruth and looked her in the eyes. “Now go tell _mommy_ you’re sorry, ‘kay?”

Ruth wiped her eyes and nodded, then wrapped her arms around Linda’s legs.

“I’m sorry. I don’t hate you…”

Linda returned the hug. “It’s okay, shh, it’s okay Ruthie…”

 _You’re_ so _lucky mommy loves you…_. Something about that sentence would live in Ruth’s mind for a very long time...

—

“ _Give them back, you pest!_ ”

“Make me, dum-dums!”

It wasn’t uncommon for Ruth and the Barnabys to fight. They could be so annoying and _weird_ sometimes, never letting her play with their flying toys (“NOT toys” they’d say, but Ruth knew they were…) or go in their room. Though she would never admit it, Ruth just wished they’d play with her sometimes...

Today however, they were arguing over the yellow sweater Ruth currently wore, and the green one she held in her fist.

“They don’t even _fit_ you anymore!”

“ _Mommmmm!_ ” Both twins yelled at the same time. 

“MOMMY!” Ruth followed.

Soon enough, a mediation was underway, with Linda and Melanoff sitting across from Ruth and the twins, who looked less than thrilled to be there.

“She started it.” A immediately chimed in.

“Let’s hear both sides of the story, A.” Linda said.

“Mom _said_ I could go through the hand-me-downs!” Ruth added. 

“Yeah, _Jane’s_ hand-me-downs!” 

“I don’t WANT Jane’s hand-me-downs…”

This got both the twins’ _and_ their parents’ attention. Ruth crossed her arms and sank down in her seat.

“They’re too girly. I like yours.”

“That’s perfectly fine, Sugar Bug!” Melanoff said. “But those sweaters are _very_ special to the Barnabys. Right guys?”

The twins didn’t answer right away, and in fact looked like they were in some deep thought, and it was B who spoke first. 

“Yeah, they are…” He started. “A and I wore those sweaters like, everywhere! We felt a little safer with them, but…” B looked down at the green yarn bundle in Ruth’s lap. “I think you’ll need them more than us, Ruthie…”

Ruthie. That was something A and B hardly ever called her. “Stinky” or “Twerp” maybe, but never “Ruthie”...

That’s what made Ruth set the green sweater down in B’s lap. That, and...she just had a feeling that maybe, he still needed to feel safe.

“It’s okay, B. I’m sorry.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” said Ruth. She looked down at the yellow sweater she was still wearing. “I can give yours back too, A!”

A thought for a moment, and looked to his twin who nodded in approval.

“Nah, keep it. I think it’s only fair.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! With any luck, you’ll get eaten by moths!” A teased and ruffled Ruth’s hair while B laughed as well. 

“ _Ugh!_ You guys are the _worst_!” Ruth said, swatting at the twins but clearly laughing herself.

The twins would never admit it, but Ruth would always be that same beastly baby they found all those years ago. Especially in yellow.


End file.
